


Number One

by hes5thlazarus



Category: Star Trek: Lower Decks (Cartoon), Star Trek: Picard, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Angst, Deanna POV, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:54:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29620209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hes5thlazarus/pseuds/hes5thlazarus
Summary: Will Riker reacts to finding out Picard's named his dog "Number One."“But that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Will says thoughtfully. “‘The good old days.’ They’re over, have been for a long time, ever since we took that promotion on the Titan, had our babies. But Jean-Luc….” He sighs. “You would think, that after all this time, he’d be able to rest. Because it was all so much, we can’t pretend it was fun.”Deanna says, “But that was all he ever had, Number One. The ship and the crew and the motto--going boldly, where none had gone before. And adventuring is all well and good, but you need to make yourself a place to go home to. That is not a ship and crew.”
Relationships: Jean-Luc Picard & Deanna Troi, William Riker & Number One, William Riker/Deanna Troi, William River & Jean-Luc Picard
Comments: 3
Kudos: 42





	Number One

“Did I hear him right?” Will asks. Deanna raises an eyebrow. He raises both eyebrows back. “The dog, Deanna. Did I hear him right?”   
  
Deanna smiles. She reaches for the bottle Picard brought and looks at him questioningly, but he gestures to her that he has had enough. She pours herself a glass. “I don’t know, Will. What did the dog say?” She exchanges a glance knowingly with her daughter. Kestra grins back.   
  
“What’d he call him, Daddy?” Kestra asks innocently.   
  
Will rolls his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?   
  
Deanna raises her glass to her lips and grins. The day is dragging into dusk, and they are enjoying the onset of melancholy that crept in as Jean-Luc left. Jean-Luc: because he is not the Captain anymore, or Admiral, but their friend, their mentor, their daughter’s grandfather. Kestra loved his dog, so much so Will looked at Deanna with puppy eyes--and then started when he heard his name.   
  
Will says, “‘Number One’--what do you think he means by that?” Deanna looks at Kestra, who is happily occupied investigating the garden for fireflies. She is listening, of course. She’s their clever girl, though Deanna thanks every star forming Beta Zeta that she has Will’s forthrightness to blunt her empathy.   
  
Deanna says, “I think he’s lonely. Have you spoken to Geordi? He’s inviting him to dinner next week.”

  
Will sighs. “And he refused. He told Geordi he was too tired.” He maneuvers himself onto the deck chair, swinging leg over leg and adjusting himself. He is getting too old to move like that. Deanna has never quite understood why he makes a performance out of sitting down--he does have nice legs, but she’s seen him fall too many times to imagine he’s doing it to show off. He catches her scrutinizing him. “What? I can still move!”   
  
“Not that,” Deanna says absently. “He’s self-isolating again.”   
  
“He came out for us, Deanna. For Kestra. And he’s got a dog. God. All that time.” Will straightens in his seat and puffs out his chest. He comes out with his best Picard imitation: “‘Make it so, Number One! Engage.’” He flourishes dramatically. “All this time, and he names a dog after me. He  _ replaced me _ with a dog, Deanna. You ever look back and wonder how we did it all? Well, now we know: a dog could’ve done it, on the old Enterprise.”   
  
“You do need to be taken out on walks,” Kestra calls from the rose bushes.   
  
“Hey!” Will says. “I resent that.”   
  
“Because it’s true!” Kestra cackles. She takes the knife her brother made her and cuts a rose carefully. She hurries over and presents it to her mother. Deanna looks up at her softly. What a wonder they made: Kestra knows she is distressed, Kestra already knows how to deflect the mental angst and give what comfort she can. She wants to tell Jean-Luc: look, she’s as wonderful as you said she would be. Come over again, she’s growing up too fast.   
  
Then Kestra abruptly stabs the rose into her hair and runs off again. Deanna gingerly removes the flower from her hair.   
  
“You okay?” Will asks.   
  
“I’m worried about him,” Deanna says. “At least he’s not alone on his vineyard, but he does tend to dwell. He doesn’t seem--tired, to me. Muted, instead.”   
  
“He’s dwelling,” Will says. “Naming the dog after me. I mean, he could’ve just said he misses me, and we’d have him over for dinner every other night. Just like on the Enterprise.” He sighs, crossing his legs and arms. The dusk is darkening, and they watch their daughter chase fireflies silently. Deanna sips again at her wine. Grief comes in waves, as sure as the darkening of the dusk on their little villa, and now she can sit with his pain. She lost a child, Picard his idealism, and both of these things are somehow wrapped up in retirement, in Data’s death, in the endless wars the Federation has faced. She wishes she had gotten him alone for a moment, to ask him if he had found a new counsellor--but she had retired from her practice, hadn’t she? After Thad’s death. Because she could not take it anymore. She could not take on any more pain, not when she had had enough of her own.   
  
Will speaks. “He needs to move on. It’s been a long time since we were on the Enterprise. And a dog won’t give him that--comradeship, that he needs. Why didn’t he and Beverly--”   
  
“Will,” Deanna interrupts. “For the same reason he named his dog after you.” She smiles at the face he makes. “Because he needs to remain the Captain, and she was the Doctor, and fraternization in the ranks--”   
  
“Oh come on,” Will protests, “we did enough fraternization. Remember you and Wof?”   
  
“Yes,” Deanna says flatly. “I do remember how you made a fool of yourself.”   
  
Will presses a hand to his chest. “For love. A fool, for love.”   
  
As always, she is charmed despite herself. “A ship of fools,” she laughs, and Will grins, happy she’s happy. “The good old days.”   
  
“But that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Will says thoughtfully. “‘The good old days.’ They’re over, have been for a long time, ever since we took that promotion on the  _ Titan _ , had our babies. But Jean-Luc….” He sighs. “You would think, that after all this time, he’d be able to rest. Because it was all so much, we can’t pretend it was fun.”   
  
Deanna says, “But that was all he ever had, Number One. The ship and the crew and the motto--going boldly, where none had gone before. And adventuring is all well and good, but you need to make yourself a place to go home to. That is not a ship and crew.”   
  
Will looks over his shoulder, where Kestra is running wild. “Kestra! Don’t go too far!”   
  
They hear a faint call of disapprobation from the bushes.   
  
“I mean it!” he yells. He moves to get up, but Deanna takes his hand.   
  
“Sit with me awhile,” she says. “She’ll be back in just a sec.”


End file.
